


Stress Relief

by a_lonely_rabbit (usagi_san1997)



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usagi_san1997/pseuds/a_lonely_rabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley has unrequited feelings for Fisk and checks up on the man. Fisk then decides uses him for some much needed stress relief</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> So uh.. this is my first fanfiction ever so be prepared?  
> Non-beta'd  
> *Revised 3/11/2016*

It’s morning when Fisk finds himself sitting at the edge of his bed, the sun pouring in through the window, and silk sheets threaded through his clenched knuckles. He stares intently at "Rabbit in a Snowstorm", feeling it's calming sensation wash over him. He’s angry, the masked vigilante is getting more confident, and making everything significantly more difficult. Fisk’s fingers untangle themselves and he stands, getting ready to tackle the rest of his day.

He contemplates what he can have Wesley do for him later while he cooks his breakfast- the monotony of doing so giving him the clarity of mind necessary to think. He knows of the younger man’s feelings for him, has known for years. It’s just another factor of the man’s loyalty to Fisk, one that he uses to his advantage often.

Fisk is just finishing his omelette when Wesley walks into the kitchen, much to the large man’s pleasant surprise.

"I didn't call for you." Fisk says, refusing to visually acknowledge him in favor of finishing his meal. Unseen, Wesley's lips purse before he responds.

"No, but I do worry about you, sir, if there's anything-" he stops, cut short by Fisk holding up a finger,

"You shouldn't, but," he stops, putting his fork down and standing. He moves closer to Wesley before continuing. He knows just what to have Wesley do for him today. "-follow me to my office." He walks on, not pausing to look back, for he knows that Wesley will follow his orders- no matter how mundane or ludicrous.

Finally, they reach the office and Fisk takes a seat on his leather chair, Wesley standing before him obediently,

"Sir?" He begins, standing at attention before his employer. He would do anything for Fisk, for his friend- for the man he not-so-secretly adores. He had realized years ago that his obedience came from something much more than their complex employer/ employee relationship, but from an insidious feeling that had grown in his heart.

He pined for his boss, his friend, and his stomach fluttered as he waited for Fisk to give him his next task. It was useless, he knew, Fisk, obviously, was not interested, and Wesley doubted he ever would be. Fisk was with Vanessa, and had never shown any previous interest in men, let alone Wesley himself.

Just as he began to sweat, Fisk spoke,

"I've been... Stressed as of late. With this.. Masked killer on the loose, I haven't had the time to relax as I used to." He looks up into Wesley's eyes, " However, I'm sure you already knew that, being as observant as you are."

He pauses,

"That being said, I’m sure you would do anything to help me, wouldn't you, Wesley?" He asks, and Wesley can feel his face heat up,

"Of course sir." He says, his voice wavering, trying to remain calm and collected. Even so, his stomach twists in knots and he can feel his heart hammering in his chest. Fisk smiles, his jowls lifting,

"Of course.." His legs spread unconsciously, “Come here, Wesley.” He commands. Wesley steps closer, moving around the desk to stand directly in front of the larger man. "I want you to get on your knees, there, just like that." Fisk continues, watching with predatory eyes as Wesley drops to kneel in front of him- face just short of a foot away from his groin.

Wesley's cheeks are certainly aflame by now, and heat spreads through his belly; he looks up at Fisk expectantly, waiting,

"Now, undo my pants and suck me off." Fisk commands, a sick smirk on his twisted face.

Wesley gulps and nods, with an almost unheard, “Yes, sir.” 

With trembling fingers, he reaches forward to undo the fastenings of Fisk’s pants. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and pulls Fisk’s semi-hard cock out. With growing confidence he grips him, slowly starting to pump his hand until Fisk is completely hard. A bead of precum shines in the light streaming from the office window and it's light catches Wesley's rapt attention. With a slight grin he leans forward to lick the liquid away, and audibly groans as the vaguely salty flavor bursts on his tongue.

With one final, fleeting look into Fisk's face, he shuffles closer and licks a stripe up the stiff organ. Another small moan erupts from his throat and he continues with fervor. He licks and kisses all up and around Fisk's length, coating it in lubricating saliva so it slides more easily past his dry lips. 

Fisk's hips rock minutely, his patience beginning to wear thin,

"Don't tease me Wesley." He threatens, his voice huskier, deeper, than usual. The man grins and licks one last stripe over Fisk's sensitive head before taking it into his mouth.

He starts with a shallow bobbing of his head, sucking gently and preparing himself to take Fisk deeper into his mouth. The heady feeling of soft, silken flesh, heavy on his tongue makes his own groin harden with electric arousal.

He moans softly around Fisk's cock, taking him deeper before swallowing him down; he can’t get enough of the taste of him. Wesley lets Fisk’s cock pass into his throat and rubs his nose against Fisk's hip. The older man finally lets out the most restrained of moans, and lets his fingers tangle in Wesley's dark locks, tugging slightly, to spur him on.

Wesley no longer tries to stop the sounds he’s making, humming around Fisk, sending vibrations through his swollen erection. Fisk hits the back of his throat at the wrong angle, forcing him to pull off and catch his breath. 

His lips are shiny with spittle, but he dives down again, eager to continue pleasing his boss. He sucks with more giddiness, seeking more of the addicting, musky taste of his unrequited love.

He twirls his tongue around Fisk's length, and presses his head back into Fisk's hands, encouraging him to pull. Fisk groans and tightens his hold.

Fisk gives no warning when he pulls Wesley's head down and begins thrusting his hips in earnest- fucking the man’s pretty little mouth. Tears stream from Wesley's eyes but he loves it, his own hardness straining in his slacks.

Finally, Fisk pulls Wesley off his cock as ropes of warm, sticky cum erupt from him with a long, low groan.

Wesley pants as it hits his face. He looks up at Fisk and smiles, wiping a streak away with his thumb and licking it.

Fisk catches his breath and looks down at Wesley,

"Thank you my friend." Fisk grunts out, voice rough after his intense orgasm. Wesley nods, an obvious tent in his black slacks. He gives Fisk a yearning look, locking eyes with the older man. Fisk doesn’t smile when he opens his mouth,

"You may leave now Wesley, I have no further need for you right now." He dismisses Wesley with a shake of his hand.

Wesley grits his teeth and nods. Quickly, he stands and walks stiffly out of the room.

He had expected no less.


End file.
